Thomas Moore Quotes

When true hearts lie wither'd
And fond ones are flown,
Oh, who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?

'Tis the last rose of Summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone.

Eyes of unholy blue.

The tribute most high to a head that is royal,
Is love from a heart that loves liberty too.

But there's nothing half so sweet in life
As love's young dream.

No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close,
As the sun-flower turns on her god when he sets
The same look which she turn'd when he rose.

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,
Were to change by to-morrow and fleet in my arms,
Like fairy gifts fading away.
Thou wouldst still be adored as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart,
Would entwine itself verdantly still.

Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.

Life is a waste of wearisome hours
Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns;
And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers,
Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.

The harp that once through Tara's halls
The soul of music shed,
Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls
As if that soul were fled.
So sleeps the pride of former days,
So glory's thrill is o'er;
And hearts that once beat high for praise
Now feel that pulse no more.

And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls,
Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.

Oh! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade,
Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid.

Go where glory waits thee,
But while fame elates thee,
Oh! still remember me!

Come, come," said Tom's father, "at your time of life,
There's no longer excuse for thus playing the rake--
It is time you should think, boy, of taking a wife."
"Why, so it is father--whose wife shall I take?

Oh, call it by some better name,
For friendship sounds too cold.